Chapter Text
Sebastian Grimm, as was becoming more common, waited for Leovander Loveage to walk through the door.
In their Duality class, of course. Since returning to the Fount a few weeks ago, they’d had scarce reason to interact outside of their singular shared class. Leo had invited him to work on a spellsong here and there, but Sebastian’s immediate response was always to find some way to tell him no.
He had to tell him no.
As an unexpected result, he started to covet their time together in this class—a sentiment Leo clearly did not share, considering he was beginning to make tardiness another one of his many less-than-desirable habits.
It usually wasn’t hard to pay attention to Phade as they spoke to the class; their wry manner of speaking and command of presence was how Sebastian learned best. His mind, however, was split as the class had been going for fifteen minutes now with no sign of Loveage. He was never this late before.
Right as he was beginning to think something was wrong (Leo had not been quite right with his health since they’d returned, as much as he tried to hide it), the door to the classroom creaked open. An unkempt Leo crept in, immediately catching Sebastian’s eye.
His his jacket and sash were, as usual, wrinkled, and he wore his hair half up half down. That was the best way for him to wear it, honestly. It kept the hair out of his face, all while—
Oh, so he had a preferred way that Loveage wore his hair now, did he?
Sebastian frowned and returned his attention back to Phade as Leo scooted onto the bench beside him, foot knocking into his.
“Miss anything good?” He breathed towards him. Sebastian shot him a look that said you know better than to talk while Phade lectures.
Leo drew his mouth into a line and mimicked locking it with a key. If only it were that easy. He then leaned forward, resting his chin in his hands, and at least feigned interest in what their professor had to say.
His hair (yes he was thinking about his hair again) was greasy with loose pieces framing his round face, and stubble peppered his jaw and neck. The one silver lining was that he didn’t smell like the sticky floor of a tavern. In fact, despite his disheveled state, he smelled rather nice. Was it something floral?
“Scrivers and casters, you may begin you tests for today.”
Sebastian blinked and realized he didn’t catch the last few sentences Phade said. He turned to Leo, who was already pulling a sheet from his spells folder.
“Looks like I made it just in time,” he said, as if he didn’t miss the first quarter of the class.
“Were you out drinking last night?”
“Grimm, would it shock you to know that I do study sometimes?”
“Yes.”
Leo put a scandalized hand to his chest. “I was up late scriving.” He placed the spell in front of Sebastian. “It’s grand magic, too—I know, how very adventurous of me. I was serious when I said I was going to possibly-maybe join the Coterie.”
Sebastian huffed. “Being late every day is serious?”
He waved a dismissive, black-nailed hand. “I’m still getting used to my new sleep cycle. It’ll even out soon enough.”
It was shocking how easily Leovander could ignore things that were so clearly wrong. Not that Sebastian had been much of a help, considering he avoided the man most of the time.
Leo tapped his fingers on the table. “Are you ever going to cast the thing, or shall we pass of old age first?”
Sebastian set his jaw and reviewed the spell. He went word by word, making sure his brain didn’t substitute or swap letters. If he really wanted to, he could blaze through text as fast as anyone. The problem was that half of what he thought he read would be wrong, or he would skip over entire sections, not realizing anything had been written there at all. So, he went through and checked and double checked each of Leo’s neatly written words.
“What does it do?” he asked as he got to the end of the spell.
“If you haven’t figured it out yet, let’s leave it a surprise.”
“Your surprises always end so well.”
“I think the last one did, actually.” He gave Sebastian a smile that made him look back at the paper. Then he picked it up, ready to cast when Leo placed a quick hand on his forearm. The contact made his heart stutter and he looked at him.
“You need to sing this one.”
Sebastian looked around the room and all of their tiermates casting. “Here?”
“Where else am I going to develop spellsongs with you if you keep turning me down?” His hand was still on his arm, though it was only a gentle weight. “Besides, it’s an amplifier, and I’d like this one to last more than a few seconds.” Leo winked and a wave of heat rushed over Sebastian. Why did he always do that?
“Okay, how does it go?”
Leo hummed a four note melody a few times until Sebastian joined him. It reminded him of morning birdsong. “It’s that repeated over and over. I made sure the number of notes lined up with the words.”
He took a deep breath, and, at not much louder than a whisper, sang the spell. Leo sat up straighter, taking back his hand and leaving a cold spot on Sebastian’s arm. Something about the spell was familiar, but he couldn’t quite place it. Leo’s spin on magic always turned the familiar into something completely new and, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, exciting.
His heart raced as he reached the end of the spell, the notes he barely sang vibrating in the space between them and consuming the piece of paper. Then, Leo’s grinning face wobbled and his whole body twisted, morphing into a fist-sized red lump that landed on the desk.
The breath caught in his throat before he realized what happened: Leo was a bird.
He had Sebastian turn him into a little cardinal.
His black eyes blinked as he ruffled his wings. He chirped the same four note melody used to cast the spell a few times then took off, flying circles around the room. Sebastian couldn’t help but grin. Barely a few months ago, Leo had written off scriving anything more complex than a charm, and now he was composing something as intricate as a polymorph spell. He was warm and he was proud of Leo and he… he…
Leo landed in Sebastian’s hair before he could finish that thought. He chirped another tune, this time more improvisational like he was messing around on his violin.
This was when Sebastian realized the rest of the room was quiet, all except for the chirping. Many sets of eyes landed on the two of them, making the skin of the back of Sebastian’s neck and ears prickle.
A caster at the table adjacent to his leaned forward, face incredulous, and asked, “Is that Loveage?”
Sebastian sighed, trying to clear the tingly warmth from his chest. “It is.”
-----
The novelty of Leo’s transformation wore off as class ended and he was still very much a bird. Sebastian had long since taken him off his head, and instead placed him on the folder with all his spells. Leo-bird didn’t seem to like this, as he immediately flitted onto his shoulder.
Those who transformed into animals were supposed to maintain their personalities. However, there was a lot of debate on how much of their intelligence they kept. It depended animal to animal, and person to person. It was this fact that gave Sebastian an extra layer of patience with Leo’s… predicament.
Why was it that Leo always found himself in one of those?
He gathered up both their things and headed to Phade as the rest of his tiermates flooded out of the room. A few poorly masked their giggles as Leo-bird chirped at them.
“I see he is still a bird,” Phade said, face bearing no humor.
“He is.”
“Did he prepare a counter spell?”
Sebastian looked to the window behind them. “He did not.”
They hummed. “It is interesting, I’ve never seen a student hold a polymorph spell for so long. Your report said you used an amplifier, what was it?”
Sebastian resisted cringing. Leo had no luck with Fount instructors taking spellsongs seriously, and, regardless of everything they’d been through and everything Leo promised, he was still on probation.
But it was Phade, and Sebastian couldn’t lie to them.
“I sang the spell,” he said.
Leo let out an indignant chirp.
“You sang it?” A whiff of intrigue came across Phade’s face.”And that works as an amplifier?”
He nodded. “We’ve done it before.”
Leo pecked the side of Sebastian’s neck, though it didn’t feel like much.
“And it was my responsibility as the caster to properly calculate the power of the spell,” he added quickly. “Leovander’s scriving was perfect, it was simply my execution that has caused it to last so long.”
They raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“It is.”
Phade stared them both down for a moment, eyes impassive.
“Very well,” they finally said. “Your options as it stand now are to wait out the duration of the spell, or find someone to write a suitable counter spell. Either way, let this be a lesson to always have one prepared when experimenting with unfamiliar magic.”
Yes, he thought, eyeing the Leo-bird on his shoulder, that is certainly a lesson we haven’t learned already.
-----
“I- I can’t do it, sorry.” Cassius fiddled with the hem of his scriving sash as he and Sebastian stood at the edge of a courtyard. Even though the sun shone rather brightly today, the morning’s cold still lingered.
“It wouldn’t be as complicated as the last one,” Sebastian said, ”maybe even a general counter spell would work.”
Cassius let out an exasperated breath. “And what if the general one doesn’t work? I’m sorry Sebastian, I’m simply too busy.” He eyed Leo-bird, who, with the nearly foot height difference between Cassius and Sebastian, was at eye level. “I think he’s fallen asleep?”
Sebastian looked down, and sure enough, Leo’s eyes were closed, his little bird body tilting back and forth with each breath.
“If he’s still like this tomorrow, I’ll write you something.”
Sebastian pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything. If he pushed, he knew he could get Cassius to do it now, but it wasn’t worth it. Cassius was dreadful at telling people no; it wouldn’t be right to ignore him one of the few times he managed it. “I can work with that, Cassius. Thank you.”
He let out a sigh of relief and gave Sebastian a curt nod before scurrying off. The next stop would have been to drop him off with Quest, but, of course, she was away from the Fount until the end of the week. Leo said something about her and one of her potential Coterie troops, though his train of thought had quickly switched to something else before he explained the whole story to Sebastian.
“I guess it’s just you and me again, Loveage.” Leo didn’t wake on his shoulder, but did let out sleepy peep.
-----
All the excitement from Leo’s spell had drained out of Sebastian by time he made it to his next class, and was replaced with a familiar pit of dread in his gut. It wasn’t that the strange looks bothered him, or even the prospect of having to look after Leo (Yes, it was annoying, but that didn’t mean Leo deserved to get eaten by a cat or something). No, this was just what being near Leo was like now—simultaneously lovely and horrible. It was where worry and relief and wonder and frustration blended together in his mind and left him utterly at a loss on how to he felt.
He shook his head and found a seat in the lecture hall. And, with a gentle hand, he plucked Leo-bird off his shoulder and placed him in the empty seat beside him. He honestly didn’t want to wake him—perhaps Leo could finally get some good sleep in his birdie state—but his dark eyes flitted open as Sebastian withdrew his hand. He cocked his head and gave out one loud chirp.
A few people shot them looks, but Sebastian ignored it; the lecture hadn’t started yet, so they were still allowed to be distracting.
That sounded like something Leo would say, but he ignored that too.
He undid his sash and took off his coat, folding the latter into a makeshift nest. “Here,” he said, putting Leo-bird into it and back onto the chair. “This will be easier for the both of us if you sleep through the duration of the spell.”
Leo chirped out a few more times, and then wiggled down into the folds of the coat. But, instead of going back to sleep, he continued to blink up at him. Sebastian spun the mound of coat around so that the bird was facing the front of the class.
A large part of his training as a caster was being able to ignore distractions—to focus in the most brutal of conditions. This would be no different. Sebastian got out his things for note taking and kept his attention sharp on the professor. History wasn’t his favorite class, but today it would have to be.
He kept his eyes ahead and was making it through much of the class with no incident before curiosity got the better of him. With a glance, he saw that, while he didn’t fall back asleep, Leo-bird stayed quiet and alert in the coat, gaze following the professor at the front of the hall. Sebastian almost laughed. This was the most invested he’d ever seen Leo in a lecture. Maybe history was an undiscovered passion of his.
Sebastian looked back to his notes and found that he was fiddling with the sash he’d left folded in his lap. Since returning to the Fount, his hand would search for the little ridge where Leo’s spell mended it. The tear was barely noticeable, almost faint enough to be a wrinkle not completely ironed out.
The swirl of confused emotions turned from frayed nerves to soft relief.
Then guilt.
He wanted to say it was a horrible feeling to want Leo. In many ways he was exactly who he’d expected him to be: careless, inattentive, and wholly confusing. But, he was also creative and wonderful and, on the days he wasn’t being a complete idiot, he was kind.
Which made it frustratingly difficult to lie to him.
It had to be done, Sebastian reasoned. Leo was under the effects of a curse and it wouldn’t be fair for him to conflate Leo’s actions then with who he was now—especially when he so vehemently denied any lingering feelings from the spell.
And… Love was such a strong word.
Yes, Sebastian liked him, even he could figure that one out. It was a sweet feeling—one he’d never had before, or ever really thought that he would. But for the spell to have broken like that, it had to be something stronger, right? It didn’t feel like some grand, extra emotion that could break curses. It was something like giddy excitement and gentle comfort—not a world bending, heart imploding obsession like the spell had done to Leo.
He just liked being near him.
Nothing could come of it, obviously. Leo’s feelings were never real, even if he did fix the damned sash. Sebastian had merely come to realize that Leo was a better person than he gave him credit for. It didn’t mean anything else; he wished his brain would realize that and stop making lungs feel like they were being crushed every time Leo smiled at him.
When the lecture let out, Sebastian gathered up his coat and Leo. All that was left in his schedule was an open casting studio in the afternoon, which, if he really had to, he could skip. He glared at Leo, who had flitted back up to his shoulder and peeped into his ear every so often.
Why did he like this man?
Sebastian wove his way through as many buildings as he could on his way back to his dormitory. The last stretch, however, had to be done outside.
“Leo,” he said, plucking the cardinal off his shoulder.
Leo-bird chirped.
“You cannot, under any circumstance, fly around when we go out there.”
He let out another, more agitated chirp.
“It’s too dangerous. Wounds sustained in polymorph transfer to your body when you turn back.” If you ever turn back. “There are birds of prey in Luxe, and you chose a rather small form.”
He chirped and tried to wriggle out of Sebastian’s hands, though he wasn’t very successful. Sebastian made his grip around him firm, though he was careful to not harm Leo-bird.
And with that, he embarked outside, his stride almost a jog. The sky had turned overcast and the breeze chilled him through his coat. Leo still struggled, and had resorted to pecking Sebastian’s fingers.
“Please stop.”
Leo did, but then screeched louder than was probably natural for an actual cardinal.
Sebastian stopped, drawing in a calming sigh and looking around. There weren’t a tremendous amount of birds around, considering the weather and time of day. In fact, it was quiet in the way it was before it snowed, everything holding its breath for a big freeze.
How could Leo in bird form still so easily get what he wanted from Sebastian?
He brought Leo close to his face, making direct eye contact with the little bird. “Fly low, and stay close to me. Do you understand?”
Leo’s head twitched and he peeped.
This was so foolish—so unnecessary. Sebastian gritted his teeth and released his grip on Leo.
Leo darted into the air, a red blur of feathers taking to the sky. He went higher and higher and oh this was a mistake. Sebastian’s heart raced and his fingers itched to cast a spell. He kept his eyes on Leo, riding the chilling winds with reckless abandon. He was up there for an eternity before coming down and flying wide circles around Sebastian.
Then Leo started singing the melody that they used to cast the spell earlier. There was elation in the song—something wild and free. Sebastian’s heart calmed to it and he smiled, twisting around in a circle to follow Leo and hum along to his song.
Without having to ask, Leo eventually landed on his shoulder again. As he stopped, Sebastian found that, though he was breathless and a little dizzy, everything was lighter.
There was a knot of dread that had coiled up inside him since that morning (and since before they’d returned to the Fount, if he was being completely honest). Leo, even as a bird, found some silly way to pull him out of his head.
This was why he liked him. When he wasn’t so concerned with proving how useless he was, he was capable of being the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.
Sebastian bit the tip of his tongue. He needed to stop letting his thoughts go where ever they liked.
“Was that everything you wanted?” He asked as he proceeded with his walk towards the dormitories.
Leo didn’t chirp like he’d expected, but nuzzled up against the side of his neck, making his bones shudder.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
-----
The sun set and Leo was still a bird.
Sebastian sat at his desk, trying to power through an essay as Leo-bird slept in his coiled up coat. Cassius said he would give them a counter spell, but what if it didn’t work? What if it was like last time? Except they wouldn’t have gotten out of that forrest without Leo, no matter how stupid and risky his means of doing so were.
Maybe they could use the same method they’d planned with the curse: pull it out, put it into a magical object, then destroy said object. He did still have the feather…
And then he would have to explain to Loveage why he still had the feather.
He put his head down and groaned. No, death for the both of them was preferable.
There was a small peep from Leo. Sebastian rested his chin on his arm, expecting to see two birdie eyes looking back at him, but they were still closed. Another peep and a ruffle of feathers. Was he dreaming? Could one who was polymorphed dream?
Leo-bird breathed more quickly, too, and he twitched and—
It wasn’t a dream; he was having a nightmare.
Cold stillness settled in Sebastian’s heart at the realization. Leo told him that the nightmares had ceased, but of course that was a lie. Why did he always do that? Didn’t he know there was no need for him to shoulder everything alone?
Maybe he wouldn’t if Sebastian hadn’t been brushing off his every attempt to exchange more than a few words.
Leo jolted and he instinctively reached out to him. He brushed a finger through the feathers at his neck. Initially, this was to wake him up, but the bird didn’t rouse. Sebastian kept scratching the spot, Leo leaning into his hand and slowly settling down into a peaceful sleep once more.
Part of Sebastian was afraid to take his hand back, either because it might wake Leo, or because his torments might return. So instead, he rested his chin back on his arm and resolved to watch him until he next awoke.
-----
Sebastian swore his eyes were closed for only a moment before something pulled him out of his chair and to the ground. Everything tumbled off of his desk and the crashed to the side. He blinked the sleep out of his eyes to find Leo’s normal, human face staring back at him.
After a few breaths, Leovander burst into laughter.
He laid on his side, curling towards Sebastian. Leo still clutched the shoulder of his shirt, which was now thoroughly stretched from yanking him to the ground.
“Loveage,” Sebastian said with as much admonishment as he could conjure, though the hint of laughter in his own voice undercut that. It was so good to see his absurd, pretty face. “This is funny to you?’
“Oh yes, but it’s also amazing, Grimm.” There was a frenetic glow to Leo as he stared back, eyes wide and gleaming. “I was flying! You called my scriving perfect. Did you see the look on that one caster’s face? And I was an entire bird for… Wait, how long was I a bird?” He looked around as if he just realized where he was.
Sebastian checked his watch, which informed him that it was pushing 1:30 in the morning. “Sixteen hours,” he said.
“Sixteen hours? That’s incredible, did—“
He pushed Leo onto his back, pinning him by the shoulder and looming over him. “I had to take care of you all day.”
Leo grinned patted his free hand against Sebastian’s cheek, sending an electric twist through his insides. “And I appreciate it.”
“I got nothing done.”
“Yes, I’m sure that was so horrible for you. What, now you’re only a little ahead of everyone else?”
Leo’s cheeks were rosy, and his hair was tangled like he’d been in a hurricane. His lips parted with his smile, and in the relief of having him back, Sebastian almost leaned down to kiss him.
Almost.
He released him from his hold and sat up, busying his eyes by looking at the damage to his desk. Everything had been thrown across the floor, the single grace being he’d capped his ink bottle before dozing off. He should have thought about what would happen when Leo changed back. He would have thought about it if he hadn’t been so distracted.
“Do you feel alright?” Sebastian said, standing. He went about picking things up, still not quite able to look at Leovander.
“I feel great,” he said, then gasped. “Grimm, look.”
He nearly dropped the ink bottle as he snapped around. Leo, standing, held a bright red feather.
“It’s almost like I’m a real scriver now,” he said, spinning it between his finger tips.
Sebastian frowned, looking at Leo’s blackened nails. “You’ve always been a real scriver, Loveage.”
“Oh, you know what I mean.” He held out the feather. “Here, as repayment for being my brave and noble guardian today.” His hand trembled, which made Sebastian wonder how truthful he was being with how well he was feeling.
He took the feather, briefly brushing fingers with Leo. He’d have to add it to the collection of feathers he was accruing from him. “We shouldn’t have used your spellsong like this. Untested, I mean.”
Leo glared at him. “Well, it wouldn’t have been so untested if you didn’t keep ignoring me.”
He gaped at him for a moment. “I’ve been busy.”
“So have I. Do you know how much catching up I have to do? Besides, I would have thought that breaking ground on a new way to cast magic would be far more interesting to you.”
He bit the inside of his cheek. It was so painfully interesting to him. The way Leo approached magic was like nothing he’d ever seen and it was incredible. But, as much as he fought it, that was the thing that kept drawing him closer and closer to him. He couldn’t give in to that desire, could he?
“It’s not because of the curse, is it?”
Sebastian blinked. “What?”
“I mean, it’s the only thing I can think of. Other than you simply want nothing to do with me.” Leo said it with a laugh, but his eyes scrutinized every twitch of Sebastian’s face.
“It’s neither of those things. I… I don’t know why. I guess it hasn’t been a priority.” He twisted the feather in his fingers to stop himself from cringing at how horrible of a liar he was. It wasn’t his fault that he hadn’t had much cause for it until now.
“Because I swear none of the effects have carried over,” Leo continued, the brutally obvious lie escaping him. “Right now you are nothing but a mildly annoying friend to me.”
A stone dropped in Sebastian’s stomach. Why did that bother him? They barely knew each other, and he balked at the idea that the curse broke because his feelings were allegedly strong enough to constitute as love. But Leo returning that indifference was… somehow disappointing?
It was all so illogical and selfish and—
“Grimm?” Leo eyed him, brows raised.
It was ridiculous. There was no good ending to following his one-sided infatuation with Leo, and it was best to simply let it die with whatever tenuous connection they’d made in the Unquiet Woods.
But he had such a lovely mind—one that Sebastian wanted to know more of.
“Mildly annoying?” Sebastian said, trying to keep his voice as neutral as possible.
After a moment, Leo barked out a laugh. He covered his mouth, containing himself—albeit rather poorly. “Don’t worry, you have plenty of time to work your way back up to ‘excruciatingly annoying’, but I fear we’d have to see each other more than two times a week for that to happen.”
He let out a shaky breath. Yes, they’d have to see each other a lot, wouldn’t they? “What spell did you want to work on first?”
A glittering shine returned to Leo’s eyes. “I’m so glad you asked, because I have many.” He whisked past and sat at the desk, scribbling on a piece of unmarked paper and rambling about the feats of grand magic they would achieve together.
Sebastian stood close enough so his arm just barely brushed Leo’s shoulder as he wrote.